Words like Mercury
by Slytherin Psychopath
Summary: A meeting with the Minister of Magic could be Tom's foot in the door or political downfall. Harry watches as his lover manipulates with the best of them. One-shot.


**Disclaimer: **I do not own anything Harry Potter related.

It was times like these that Harry was glad he convinced Tom to achieve his goals in a more political manner. He could live without the galas and the press, but watching Tom charm and manipulate his way through the Ministry was incredibly satisfying. Well, satisfying knowing that it kept him from mass murdering people and tearing his soul into a thousand pieces.

Today, Tom had a meeting with the intimidating Minister of Magic Hark Jones. Had Harry known before he went the sort of verbal slaughtering he was going to witness, he would have brought a muggle recording device.

Harry glanced up at Tom as they walked through the atrium of the ministry. His lover never got nervous on the surface and it was slightly terrifying. Most men would trembling with trepidation knowing they were about to have possibly the most important meeting of their career thus far. Tom just had a cool smirk on his face and determined eyes watching ahead of him. He walked with a poised and graceful gait like a cobra coiling in preparation to strike. From this deadly look to his expensive-looking business robes, Tom looked completely in control of everything happening in a 100 meter radius.

They arrived outside the Minister's office after the surprisingly dauntless walk through the ministry. Jones's secretary, Miss. Shelby Parkinson, informed him of their arrival and sent them in. Tom finally looked at Harry for a brief moment to reassure himself as to why he was doing all this. If his confidence has faltered for a second, the knowing look of pride in Harry's eyes was all it took to regain his confidence.

"Hello, Minister Jones," Tom smiled charmingly as he entered the room.

"You must be Mr. Riddle. It is a pleasure to meet you. I've heard good things. Who is your associate?" Jones asked politely.

"This is my assistant, Harry Potter," Tom explained. It wasn't a lie. Harry spent a lot of time helping Tom in his cause. He usually organized publicity functions and worked closely to get people on their side. As charismatic as Tom was (he could convince a hummingbird that it was guard to Buckingham Palace), he had trouble making friends. That's what Harry did. He made people feel like they owed Tom and him their loyalty. Not through fear, but through respect and kindness. Just because they were also lovers and future husbands did not mean they couldn't work together in a business relationship as well. Politely, Harry shook hands with the Minister and gave him a friendly smile.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Potter. Are you of any relation to Charlus Potter?" Jones questioned curiously. Since travelling back in time to murder Lord Voldemort (we see how well that worked out) Harry had been asked this question more times than he could count.

"I'm sure there's some connection somewhere, but I don't know exactly what it is," He lied easily. The Minister accepted this easily.

"Excellent family none the less," Jones commented. Harry inconspicuously bit his tongue to keep from speaking his thoughts aloud. He knew the kind of people that used that kind of phrase. He never realized the Minister was a pureblood supremacist. "Now, down to business. Mr. Riddle, what is this brilliant idea my colleagues insist that you must propose to me in person."

Tom set his small briefcase on the Minister's desk and opened it. He pulled out a file which he handed to the Minister. Harry could already feel his own stomach twisting in knots. This was Tom's first proposal, and if everything went off without a hitch, it would be his foot in the door to higher positions within the ministry. What had begun as a casual but totally intentional mentioning over tea with colleagues had worked its way up to higher officials who were all blown away with Tom's ingenious idea that was honestly only logical.

Shelby returned and set down three cups of tea on a tray. After the minister got his own tea, Tom and Harry helped themselves in a polite and orderly fashion.

"Basically it would be an orphanage for children with magical abilities," Tom explained. "Many muggles are _unequipped_ to handle magical children. Statistics show that nearly half of muggleborns end up in asylums or orphanages by the age of eight – by the time their magic begins showing. This law would offer sanctuary for any needy magical child to grow and be nurtured properly. Also, under the law allowing these operations to be constructed, the Ministry would be able to prosecute muggle guardians for crimes against their magical wards," Tom explained being as politically-correct as possible. Harry could hear the near bitter twinge to his words as he said the word "asylum" and it only worsened at the word "orphanages".

"Do you want us to wipe their noses and clean muggle streets once a week as well?" The minister scoffed. "We cannot possibly be responsible for every mess those muggles make. This is a waste of my time, Mr. Riddle."

"Sir, this is the welfare of magical children we are speaking of," Tom said, easily masking his shock at the minister's words. This new platform of his – aiding magical children – had never once been shot down so coldly. The mere mention of children was usually enough for him to get people feeling warm and fuzzy about supporting his cause.

"Mr. Riddle, muggleborns and the muggle-raised are under muggle law until they turn eleven years old. That is the way it has always been and it shall always be. Between you and me, I think we both know we'd be better off if they would just stay in their disgusting, little muggle world," Jones suggested patronizingly.

"I see," Riddle's face was stoic, but Harry could see his eyes go cold.

"Besides, anyone with _real_ magical blood has relatives with magical blood they can stay with. This point is moot," Jones continued. Harry's tongue was beginning to bleed from him biting it so hard to keep from shouting at the bigoted man. Harry closed his eyes as he felt Tom tense slightly beside him. His lover was about to explode in the only way Tom ever would in such a setting: by closing himself off to emotion.

"Help me understand what you are saying. You are rejecting my proposal because it is in the best interest of those who are muggleborn and muggle-raised?" Tom asked slowly.

Contrary to outdated opinions, Tom wasn't all that against muggleborns. The incident with the Chamber – though none of them knew he was behind it - had only happened because it was what Salazar had intended. Muggles were the bane of Tom's existence, not muggleborns. He knew firsthand how cruel and narrow-minded they could be. Since Harry somehow got him on this track towards solving the world's problems by subtle manipulation –politics – instead of ruthless coercion, he realized that ruling the muggles would be near impossible. That's why he hoped to make their lives as separate as possible. So long as muggleborns were willing to go along with this, Tom viewed them with the same disdain he had for the rest of the morons of the wizard world. If they were intelligent and ambitious, he might not even feel disdain. At one time, blood-purity has been a good platform for him to manipulate followers with. However,Tom was grateful Harry had suggested to him better platforms such as the protection of magical children. It reached a much broader audience and was a much easier angle to play to the general public.

"I'm glad we are on the same page," Jones smiled politely.

"We are far from on the same page," Tom spoke chillingly calm and took a drink of tea before putting his cup down.

"I'm afraid I don't understand," Jones's smile faltered.

"I wonder how the public would react to learning you are endangering the lives of hundreds of magical children," Tom said as if he were discussing the weather. "Harry, can you move up our appointment with Joanna Salsburg?" Harry nodded. Joanna Salsburg was the leading journalist of the Daily Prophet and the predecessor to Rita Skeeter. No one wanted to be in a Salsburg story. It only meant one thing. Tom had reluctantly promised her an exclusive later this afternoon, but Harry had the feeling Tom was going to give her a bigger fish to fry than his personal life.

"Is that a threat?" The minister inquired trying to sound fierce, but sounding panicked. An icy smirk slid across Tom's beautiful face in response.

"Of course not, Minister. A threat would be inappropriate. If I am asked about my meeting with you today, I will not lie," Tom answered smoothly. His words were mercury as he spoke, shiny and pretty on the surface and lethal to take in. "I shall stop wasting your time if you are dead set against it. I should ask before I leave, how is Veronica?" He questioned politely.

"His wife's name is Barbra," Harry whispered in Tom's ear. Tom locked eyes with the suddenly stiff Hark Jones.

"I'm aware," Tom assured Harry. Realization dawned on Harry's face that Tom had somehow figured out the Minister was having an affair. Most likely through Abraxas Malfoy whom knew all the dirty gossip of the Ministry and was on good terms with Tom and Harry.

"Now, Tom, why are you leaving so fast!? Let me take a look at these plans. Brilliance! Sheer brilliance, my boy!" The minister complimented him in a hurried way. Harry bit his cheek to keep from snickering at how much the minister sounded like Horace Slughorn. "When it comes to my desk for approval, I shall sign in a heartbeat."

Tom raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"You have my word on my magic," The Minister swore, "So long as you never tell anyone about what you have found out."

"I believe that can be arranged. I thought you might learn to see things my way," Tom nodded emotionlessly. "Come along, Harry. Shan't want Joanna to say I'm unpunctual and irresponsible."

Harry sneered at being beckoned like a dog but held his tongue. He had changed Tom's ambitions so drastically, he felt selfish for also wanting to beat that condescension out of Tom. He couldn't completely reform Tom. Harry knew that Tom would probably always hate muggles and belittle everyone and strive for immortality. He wasn't a miracle worker afterall. Anyway, Tom would get an earful tonight in the privacy of their home. _That_ Harry could promise.


End file.
